The Drunk in the Corner
by BlackOpal
Summary: Carter swirls his coffee as Abby makes a final plee for Carter to stay home from the Congo. Set before The Fear and angsty.


Disclaimer: Michael owns all- I only wish I did.

A/N: Ok. The stories set a little before "The Fear". I'm a die hard Carby fan and it's the only good relationship Carter and Abby have ever had (it's true). So I wrote this because the other angsty part at the end of… the episode before "The Fear" wasn't enough. :-D

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She found him swirling his coffee- black, he was in a dark mood. She stood in front of him for a bit, snapping her fingers and looking around at the people he had spent the last half hour observing.

There was the drunk in the corner who had fallen asleep on the table, sleeping off his hangover so the pilot would let him on. Cindy, or so it said on her name tag, was sipping her scotch and playfully sending him winks from the corner. A family of four was at the table next to him, eating dinner before they had to get on the next flight to California- they were making an appearance to Disney World. The bartender was cleaning up for the night shift, restocking and keeping an eye on the news overhead.

Finally, there was him -Carter- a doctor who looked mangled, beaten and tired. His head was resting on his hand and there was a cup of java in the other. Who was he and what was he doing here? Hell if he knew, maybe he was just like the bartender, waiting to clean up for someone who would come in and take over for the night. Maybe Cindy was more his style, flirting with disaster (or at least stepping into the line of fire) while sipping a scotch. Most likely- he was the drunk trying to drown everything down with a nice beer and was waiting to fall asleep and wake up knowing this was all a dream.

It took her a while to finally sit down. He didn't exactly help, just peered up at her with the eyes that held a cold look- freezing in fact. She braved the frost and pulled out the chair right in front of him. She brushed at crumbs on the table while talking, her voice hoarse and unsure of herself.

"Carter- what are you doing?"

A simple question, and if he had know the answer to it, he would've loved to answer. But what the hell was he doing?

"Kovac needs me."

"Bullshit." The Disney World family moved away with the father covering his younger daughter's ears. "He's dead. You can't do anything about that and you know it."

He held his stare even with hers and swirled his coffee once again. He found it soothing and if nothing else, something to keep his hands busy. He didn't have to talk to her. His flight was boarding in two hours, he could go through security early and sit at the gate. But he didn't want to. He couldn't leave her like this.

"You're going to die. Is that what you want? You're going to be stuck inside that god forsaken place and you are going to be murdered and you're going to be too far from home- too lost- for any of us to save you." She reached out and grabbed his hands. He did nothing to resist her.

Her touch was there, so was her concern. Years he had spent with her and studied her and been with her. Years had been spent memorizing every bit about her. He had loved her for years. But now… it had all changed.

He couldn't be with her. He wasn't Carter anymore. Someone had sunk into his life and stole away himself until all that was left was his shell. But how do you tell that to the women you love? The women who's going to stay behind and pick up the pieces of your life while you run away?

Carter couldn't.

He moved to pick up the huge duffle bag he had stored underneath the table. Her eyes followed and she knew. He was going and she couldn't stop him. No matter how many times she begged and pleaded, he had already left. She was powerless.

"I can't do this again," she said, as if that would make him drop everything and stay. He had heard it before; she had screamed it from the entrance of the ER. But he was a thousand miles away from that place and a thousand miles away from Abby. He was already in the Congo, already searching for a piece of the soul he had left there.

He kept moving, past the bartender, past the drunk, past Cindy (who seemed to be engrossed in the drama unfolding before her). She caught his sleeve and threw him around to face her. He was in no mood to argue but she still had some fight left.

"Don't do this." Her voice held pain and misery and suffering. There was so much existed inside of her that she wanted to let go of. She couldn't. She couldn't let go of it without Carter.

For a moment, Carter realized how much she needed him. He had been her rock for so long and now he was leaving her. Could this plea be for her own sake. Possibly. Did it matter? No. Not now.

He kissed her lightly on the forehead, gripped his duffle bag and headed for the safety of the ticket holders' only zone.

"John." One more petition for him to come back to her.

Not this time Abby.

He didn't even look back, not once.

If he had, he would've seen a broken woman sobbing on the floor and a pretty flight attendant offering her a handkerchief.


End file.
